


Lost and Found

by Valkyrja_Cain



Series: Tenno Timelines; Kayden [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Animal Death, F/M, Gen, eugh, it made my heart break to write, those poor kavats got infested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrja_Cain/pseuds/Valkyrja_Cain
Summary: Talthen gets asked to go on a rescue mission when the rest of the Clan is unable. It's... messier than expected.
Series: Tenno Timelines; Kayden [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916377
Kudos: 2





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> some of my formatting got eaten. BLEH. the hell of copying discord into gdocs then here. messy messy...

Her Nekros' weapon gouts fire across another wave. She's finally managed to purge this room completely, quarantined it off from the rest of the somatic cables that link the ship. Kayden had sent her a rather... horrifying message. Ivars had been missing for a week. Not uncommon, but she also hadn't responded to anything. And she had just been sent a message indicating the Lotus had listed their Ivara's ship as decommissioned. If Kayden hadn't been in a deadlock, down two frames for repairs and still wounded himself, she'd have sent him to figure it out. Zelu is still in the middle of research, and as much as it pains her, time is of the essence for that too... If she had to, Zelu would. But Sin has another option.

Normally, Sin'drion would send Talthen messages via text, piggybacked on other signals to land in his inbox without possibly incriminating his or her location in either direction. This time, however, the call is direct. A video request, directly from a... ship that is tagged only as _Derelict_.

If he answered, the call would flicker on. The screen would pop up showing her and Nekros both cleansing infested by the droves, in a room aboard an old Orokin ship, walls cracked and spores floating amidst the carnage. She's keeping an eye on the screen as her amp blasts the wing off a rather bloated osprey.

There was a mad dash. A scrambling of haphazard organization and the clunk of Rhino's feet on the floor of his Orbiter. When the video feed lights up, the frame dominates the screen, as though the imaging system is held close to his chest. What small slivers of the environment that are visible, seem to be messes of cables and plating. The Rhino nods as Talthen recognizes the two he saw purging the infestation. He knew it was Sin'drion due to the signal signature, but he was relieved to see it was both her and Dakkai in generally good health. His Feed held steady. Well, steadier than hers. The only noticeable negative was what looked to be a crack running along the left side of the image. Most likely from a damaged lens.

"Operator Sin'drion. Nekros Dakkai. To what do I owe the pleasure of your contact?"

She fades into the void, reloading the shotgun in her arms. When she fades back into existence, it's with an enraged scream that cracks in pitch. She unloads another shot and then spins. Dakkai covers her, and the two are back to back, her voice rolling free from him.

"Our Ivara has gone missing. The Lotus declared her ship decommissioned, and we have not- '' A pause as they both spin again to mow down another group of infested. "I'm clearly a bit busy here, and can't afford to lose this foothold. Kayden is down his serviceable frames and still injured. Zelu is working through some grief by burying herself in research." Another shuffle, and she fades out to reload again.

Dakkai shoves her, taking a round of toxic quills to the carapace. She returns to the unvoid with another enraged howl. "You're the only other person I can trust to go see what the fuck happened to my missing clade."

There is the slightest twitch at the mention of Zelu's grief. Luckily, the two were far too busy to notice. His fists clench out of sight of the feed. Keep calm. You can't help them now. His following question is cold, but only in an attempt to stay level headed. He knew a lot must be at stake for them to ask this of him, and he did not want to let them down.

"I will look for her. Do not worry. Where is the ship currently charted? I can head that way and scan for beacons. If you know, what mission was she on? It may give some insight as to what happened."

"I don't kn-" The rest of the word is lost in another howl. Sin'drion lurches, and Dakkai rakes shadows free of the various splattered corpses. It takes three agonizingly long seconds for them to stabilize and regain their footing in the fight. "Eris. Message Kayden.", She had given him everyone's contact information, thankfully. "He should have found her signal by now. He just can't leave the rental."

The next words are distinctly Dakkai's, "We stole his lander to keep him grounded. He's pissed." Another wave of infested go down, and Dakkai throws some kind of aerosol out. The spores wither. "Please," They both say. "The Lotus refused to tell us anything. Even just confirming a body." There's a distant roar, a juggernaut, and the connection crackles before it fizzles out completely, ending with a wad of gunk from an infested MOA covering most of the screen.

The feed cut out just as Talthen was about to respond. He looks at the static in the display window. He sighs, head lolling back to clank against a loose plate on the wall. A part of him was glad that they had not asked his aid in their current task. There was just something about the infested swarms... he shivered. He hoped the Ivara's issue was purely a situational one. A malfunctioning drive and a comm system on the fritz. He doubted it would be that easy. But one could hope right?

"Bhetty, can you charter us a course to Orbit Eris? I need to prepare equipment and write a message." The cephalon agreed, merrily blinking into the navigational array at the bow of the ship. Talthen pushed a coil of cable out of a chair and sat down, waking the interface of his comm unit as he did. With deft motions a message would form and disappear from the screen before he stood and hurried to his arsenal.

_ "Operator Kayden, _

_ I am en route to Eris to find the Ivara Operator. Do you have a signal I can track? Also, are there any details on her last mission assignment? _

_ -Operator Talthen." _

A reply pings in within thirty seconds. Seems like the other operator had simply been waiting to find out who was going.

_ "Message sent to the Lotus. _

_ 'Something's wrong with the ship. My Cephalon isn't responding to orders? I can't disengage my lander for manual either.' _

_ Replied. _

_ 'Tenno. The data you sent from mission completion will suffice. I'm sorry. Your orbiter has been compromised. It is too dangerous to send a rescue. You have served well. Dream strongly, and may the Void carry you to peace.' _

_ Lotus disabled her ship and Cephalon. She's not dead. Tenno don't get turned by the infestation, I would fucking know. What the hell is this shit?" _

_ Coordinates from the message sent attached. Receive reply still scrambled. Working on that too. Archwing deploy recommended, keep your ship safe. And hey. Cloak your lander. Don't let her know you're there. _

_ I'd help you if I could, but I've got a shattered knee, and those asshats stole my fucking mantis." _

There's no signature. No opener. Just raw reply and data. And coordinates. Her ship has likely drifted since then, but it's a start, and a damn good one.

Kayden was a no nonsense sort of Operator. Talthen could appreciate that. What he could not appreciate, was the Messages to and from the Lotus. The Lotus favored the Tenno. She would give orders that would lead to the greatest rate of survival for the void-touched. She wouldn't just leave one to die. Would she? And if she did, what was so terrible that it would call for such a course of action.

Tenno don't get turned by the infestation, I would fucking know.

Talthen squinted at this line. What did he mean by that? Eh. I'll ask later. At least I know I'm dealing with infested now. With a click, the screen went blank and the chair was empty, the crackling trace of the void the only evidence it once had an occupant. At the bottom of the ramp to the landing craft, a stocky form of tenebrous, violet hide stirred to life. The Rhino was repaired, the only reminder of the damage that nearly rendered it scrap, was a round mark with radiating arcs, a silver blemish on an otherwise pristine helmet. The frame gathers three weapons: a Lex for his sidearm, his reliable heat sword, and a new one. Zelu had been kind enough to share a few blueprints and this was the first he just had to make: a plasma thrower. He had tried it out on the Plains and fell in love. Well, as in love as one can be with a weapon. All that was left was to shoulder on the archwing and prepare for drop.

"We have arrived at Eris, Operator Talthen. We will be within Be sure to pack a thermal regulator. Space gets rather cold this time of cycle. I will pilot your ship to the other side of Eris, and I have already cloaked it, as you have instructed. All you need to do is say the word and I will be on my way for extraction."

"Thank you, Bhetty. Radio me with updates on any traffic in and out of this sector. I want to know who and what is out there." There was no response. Just a low, soft hum, and a swishing sound as the floor gave out from under Talthen, dropping him into the starlit abyss.

  
  
  
  


_ Candles cover every spare inch of space of the orbiter. Ash sighs, ventilation on his chest flexing and revealing momentary teal insides. He rests another white candle among the shining golds and pearly whites, but doesn't light it. "Tenno, do not be alarmed," The Lotus' transmission cuts off abruptly with his senses. The candle falls from frozen fingers. _

_ Exactly four days later, the chronometer must need realigning that can't be right, Ash shakes his head. He picks up the fallen candle and places it back aside the rest. A moment passes, and he lights it before settling his hands on his knees to meditate, lit only by the most base necessary shiplights and the flickering of a thousand candles. _

_ He can't get up. Infestation has caked itself over his frozen limbs. It cannot overtake him, cannot pierce his carapace, but it can coat him in terrible immobility. _

  
  


_ He doesn't keep track of the time. Never had to. That moment was insignificant enough that he hadn't ever bothered to think of it again. Now though.. Something was wrong. The Cephalon was acting strangely. Endlessly talking, screaming now, about assimilation. The Helminth of the ship had spread, had cracked open like rotted fruit. Ash curls his armor plated hands around the datapad, when did that get there, praying that someone, anyone would come help, that the message to the clan had been received. He couldn't breathe. He ached, a phantom pain driven by something under his skin or something he couldn't see. For the second time since the deep Dream, everything went dark. _

  
  


The ship drifts silently in the darkness of space. No Cephalon hails him as he approaches. A spongy growth covers the front viewport of the lander, and infestation grows like a thick second skin over the rest of the cloaked orbiter, making parts of it visible if only from where the growths are.

Talthen slowed the drives on his Odonata to a stall. Like fungus on a corpse. The infested boils and growths weathered the vacuum of space as if it were perfectly normal. Another shiver ran down his spine. Why did it have to be infested? He made his way to the access hatch used for archwing deployments, checking to see if the infestation had engulfed that entrance. As he made his way towards the craft, he sent out a short-wave ping, only detectable to scanners in close proximity. It was a hello of sorts. He hoped there would be an answer.

The escaped helminth, the evolved, supposedly neutered, strain that is ever so slowly edging closer and closer to coating the ship in it's arching, wiggling tendrils. The hatch opens without issues, as if the ship's controller, cephalon or Tenno, is inviting them in. All onboard lights are off, engines have slowed to a rhythmic, thumping, hum, a heartbeat interspersed with the grinding clicks of a fan catching on something wet and stringy.

Emergency lights flicker on, lighting the hatchway into the nav console, and the Cephalon screams. L̵i̵f̶e̶ ̶s̷u̵p̷p̴o̸R̶T̶ ̵F̷A̵I̶L̷I̴N̵G̴.̵ ̵E̶n̶g̶i̷N̴e̷S̷ ̴D̵e̶-̶ ̵J̸o̵i̶N̴ ̵U̵s̶.̶ ̷W̵e̵ ̶w̷i̴l̷l̸ ̵s̷h̶ ̴a̵R̴e̶ ̵t̷h̸e̸ ̶g̵i̸f̴t̶ The words echo out like static reverb, and then the lights gutter out with a squelch.

Infestation covers the entirety of the ship's insides. Spongy growths curl and twist in the otherwise empty space, beckoning the newcomer further in, closer to the source. Spores float freely through the air, and candles coat every flat surface that isn't a walkway.

Talthen's first action was to detach the archwing from his back and jettison it into a space near the ship. Hopefully the infestation won't be able to reach it there. He draws the heat sword from his hip, lighting it up as he stepped further into the hallway. Fungus-like flesh squishes under his weight. He suppresses a shiver, resolved to not let the roiling meat affect him. Pinpricks of light lead him further down the corridor, his sword lighting the space just before him. Barely enough to not trip, but he manages. His eyes darting back and forth as if he expected an infested Grineer charger to round the corner and bear down on him.

Something in the ship gutters out with a wrenching squelch. A breath, a single moment of dense silence, and then the ship roars back to life, like the Cephalon has gained a second wind upon realizing someone is actually here. Low light hazards kick on again, bathing the pale reddish growths in a noxious burnt orange light.

The ramp to the orbiter's lower level clicks and then rattles a few times. Covered in a veritable carpet of infested nodules and bubbling growths, there's a wet noise as the platform drops the rest of the way with the sound of tearing tendons.

"Closer, flesh of our flesh, become one with us again," The Cephalon, the walls, plead. Towards the relic segment, only half in view from the top of the ramp, lies an infestation-void patch of the ship. A single glimmering arrow is embedded in the floor at the circle's center. The rest of the segments are overgrown with pulsating nodules and wriggling flesh. Close to the mod segment, sits something... misshapen. It's shaped almost like someone in meditation, if not for the pustules and tendrils growing off of it. The pile shifts in the shadows, and it may just be a trick of the light.

"I cannot be one with that I am not of. Where is your Operator?"

He slowly ascends the ramp, step by painstakingly slow step. Light breaths slow the beating heart that pounds in his chest, resounding in his ears. He makes his way toward the patch without infestation. It seemed the best place on the ship. He reaches for the arrow, tentatively, as if to test if it is real.

Infested blisters pop with the loud sounds of something under too much pressure finally succumbing to fate. The shape roils again, and maggots and mucus spill from the wounds. The stench is hideous, like rot and candy, a thick, craggy coating overtop despair and fear. The ship is breathing, pulsing in time with the disjointed chronometer. "You are. Flesh of our flesh." The glow of distended nodules flares up, fades, and flares again, in time with the wayward sworls of spores, and the thick stink of the Cephalon's distorted words.

The arrow, Stealth, Ivara's quiver. It winks out of existence as he touches it. As if the frame had been holding out just long enough. Waiting. The helmet is caved in, the optics and nerves split like a rotten fruit. She's half devoured by the rot, and spore and tendril alike seem to slither closer now that they can again find their prey.

Her words are static laced in the feral whisper of the Helminth, coiled from her and from the strain, whispered in his ears and his frame's mind like a beloved secret. ' _ Save Her. _ ' And then the pale grey shimmer of energy dulls.

Talthen is frozen in time. He watches as the infestation rapidly clings to and crawls over the Ivara. She was  _ Alive _ . Life gone in an instant, carrion ripe for the feasting the next. He was glad he could not retch in this frame. What a mess he would have made.

The only other place to check in the immediate vicinity was the other figure, that looked as though it were already overrun by the infested growth. It looked too large to be a Tenno, another reclaimed frame most likely. Talthen debated in his head. Landing craft or transference pod? He knew her last message was about the landing craft, but the pod would have been his last line of defense if he were her. Dream until the orbiter fell out of orbit and burnt the infestation along with it as it fell to Eris. Seeing as the ship was still in orbit, he doubted this was the case. Landing craft it is.

Heat sword at the ready, the stocky frame advanced toward the second ramp. He made sure to give the seated, pustule-veiled figure a wide berth.

The lander itself seems less saturated, if only because parts of the original machinery are still visible under the chunks of searching rot. The console is nothing but sparks and squishy, stringy growths. Beside it, what used to be a kavat bed is now a pustule carpeted growth. Something moves, and a misshapen shape leaps at him, howling in pain and hatred.

Any impact causes it to explode like a squashed maprico. Guts and blood and maggots spray in a wide arc over what used to be the glass of the viewport, but is now opaque with growths.

It was the tip of his blade that met the leaping figure. The sickening sound of flesh sloughing from what would have been bone echoed against the close walls. The squeak of maggots writhing around the room began to mount. The sickened feeling he had only worsened. The very noise that played around him was a concerto of filth and fetid decay. His mind was blank. His very core a vortex. The maggots. He remembered how they had felt slithering across his skin, under his suit. He couldn't. He had to get out. He had to... and in a moment he was free. Talthen stood before his frame, his cogna mask's display static and crackling from the bile that passed through it. He heaved against his frame, eyes screwed shut. Wishing to be anywhere but here.

What had once been bone had gone spongy. The maggots roll around, some crawling over his feet. They're shiny-wet and bloated, bright pink.

The Cephalon. The infestation. The walls of the ship laugh. Static and buzzing. The steady pulsing glow quickens before returning to its normal resting pace. The same speed as an average heart rate.

His voice was weak. Hardly a whisper. "No. No. Just stop it. Stop this." His mouth was dry, the tastes of acid and metal dance on his tongue. His face was pale. He hated the infestation. He wished it would just go away. Just vanish...

"Flesh of our flesh." The ramp attempted to lift, to lock him in. When it can lift no more than a foot, welded open in scabby growths, the ship calls out to him.

"Closer-'' It calls, a whisper now, sharing a secret just for him, beckoning him closer, "We will save you," It calls, still wanting, begging, pleading him to join it. "We will take your pain away," The words are static, and the gummy visual of Cephalon Ifrit, redorange and stuttery, is seen on the cracked and oozing market screen to his side.

A message arrives, pinging his own Cephalon. It's unmarked, no noted recipient or sender just like before.

Check in. Realized you're not ours ours, so you don't know the rules. Shit like this means you check in, so we can stay updated. If a recon goes out we all show up. S won't like it but I'll make the call if I don't hear back in ten. Stay safe. Don't be stupid.

  
  


Your message has been logged, and will be provided to my Operator at the earliest convenience.

The Cephalon did not lie, for as soon as they had sent the automatic response, they were trilling in Talthen's ear. A paraphrased version of the message cracked through the oppressive weight of infested influence. As if woken from a deep slumber once more, Talthen starts. His eyes dart, his weight drops. His gaze locks on the plagued Cephalon, a terrible fear and idea forming in him all at once. His voice was hoarse and cracked.

"Bhetty. Tell them the ship is infested. The Cephalon corrupted. The search for the operator continues." After her confirmation of action, he would whisper to nobody in particular. "I hope this doesn't count as stupid."

He carefully approaches the Cephalon, arm slowly raising toward it.

His Cepahlon gets another reply once the return is acquired. Neither can see the other Operator, half sprawled on the couch in the 'clubhouse'. He's scowling at the screen, eyes flicking to the chrono every thirty seconds as if he can will them on faster, as if his worry can be conveyed through time and space to keep watch.

Timer reset. Clocking again in fifteen.

Cephalon Ifrit  _ howls _ , her image seems to stretch and the screen warps like it's trying to meet him. The hazard lights flicker back on, the burnt orange glow suffusing the ship- and then the alarm lights as well. The screen oozes, and then sparks lick from the crack toward him. The shock is more startling than damaging. The light flickers out, leaving him in wretched stinking darkness again, the only lights the glow from his frame, the infestation's spores, and his own void-lit eyes.

Something deeper in the ship howls along with the Cephalon, only noticed when she cuts out, but it continues.

There. The next lead. He could not see an Operator here, he had to keep looking. That wretched Cephalon wanted him. Enticed him to join it. Them. So perhaps this howl would lead him to the Cephalon, and maybe to the Operator she is keeping... captive. He hopes that the other Operator is still alive. With a crackle of void, he fades from this reality, back to the comfort of the in-between. Back to safety.The Rhino shaped statue springs to life, tearing free from where the infestation had begun to creep up its legs. He ran towards the sound of the distant roar. All he could do was hope that he could make it in time.

Oh to be a Tenno, with no fear they might be walking into a trap. To not worry that perhaps the Helminth, grown free and wild from accidental contact with a proper strain, was capable of delaying him. If it could restrain this Operator as well, it could spread to the distant-close ship. Evolve. Spread. Consume.

A maggot pops and squelches under his feet. Near the bottom of the ship, where the path splits between three doors, the infestation has grown. It coils like vines over the half open doorway to the living quarters. A tease.

The core of the ship, where another could dock and transit between another ship is a veritable column of hellish growths. It's less of an opening and more of a fleshy tube, though one could still easily enter or leave. How else does a venus fly trap capture its prey, but by simply opening its maw?

The transference room is shut. The door held closed by thick growths overtop of roped strands of infestation. Spores cling to the door, to the wall around it, as if it's trying to coat every possible atom in itself.

The Helminth chamber is wide open. The door has become a mouth, wide and grasping. The metal is warped, tinged grey where it's beginning to grow. "Flesh of our flesh," The room calls to him. Shapes move and twist, resembling chargers. Resembling the remnants of what had been a beloved kavat in the lander. The noises reach a crescendo, and then cease. The growths slough over, weak. They have already been assimilated, and it seems the ship, the Helminth, has used the dregs of it's meager energy reserves to animate them like a echolure.

The ship is losing power. Life support was likely failing as well. The air is thick with spores, clouding the Rhino's space and optics.

Fuck. He stared into the gaping maw that was the overgrown Helminth. How could he have been so stupid? Time slowed, as it always did when adrenaline pumped through his system. He had no choice. He had to destroy this abomination before it was able to spread. If he didn't... images of Sin'drion and Dakkai wrapped in infested cocoons and being fed upon raced through his mind. The best way to defend is to cut the aggression out at the source. Right?

The arca plasmor was secure on the Rhino's back, and in it was enough energy to burn through solid alloy plating at least twelve inches thick. This had to work. There was no other option. The rhino dropped low, a sprinter's start, relinquishing the blazing blade it held to the artificial gravity. Spores seemed to congeal across its carapace, a motley armor forming from particles in the air, concentrated until the density mimicked raw rubedo. Talthen inhaled. Then he exhaled. And then there was an explosion of energy as the frame charged headlong towards the waiting, infested maw. What made it past the threshold, however, was simply a husk.

Standing in the intersection, was a young man. His shoulder length hair whipped about wildly as the void energy amassed to swirl along his outstretched arm. "I'm sorry." It was soft. He was unsure if the frame could hear him, but it was the sentiment that counted. The blockade released. A torrent of pure void jettisoned after the courier, aiming for his cargo, the energy containment matrix of a certain plasma cannon.

There's distant sounds of _ crunching _ , and it's unclear if it's the frame or the Helminth who's winning. Even empty, a frame is heavy. A Rhino especially so. The incoming lob of energy causes the tendrils and flaps of growth to recede as it arcs past. The door to the transference chamber quakes with the nearness of the void, shivering and undulating as the strands slip apart like overheated plastic stretched too thin.

The Helminth is not prepared.

The ship rocks.

Light and heat roast the room, and there is  _ screaming _ . It bleeds from the walls, and the spores in the air shiver. The cancerous growths and masses of fleshy tubers seem to wilt and strain under the sudden lack of consciousness.

It's core is gone, but the infestation is hard to kill. He has bought time, but not peace.

The lone Tenno reels, rocked by the blast, as he falls into the void, letting it enshroud him. He looked at the infestation, weakened as it was, that clung to the door to the transference chamber. The sword. He looked around for the blade he had dropped, finding it propelled it a few meters from where it fell before. He knew he could not wield the full sized blade on his own... his stomach churned at the thought as he turned to look at the upper deck. The void carried him easily, as if he were a leaf carried by river current. He looked down at the mangled frame, and prayed the void would forgive him. He fell. As he always did when slipping into his Rhino. A cascade of void. A waterfall of Talthen. Filling the vessel that was Ivara. He pushed down, deeper and deeper. Forcing the infestation's psyche further and further away from himself as he filled the husk. He could not see. He knew that. The helmet was crushed. But he could remember. He could remember where the sword lay and where the door was. Mentally he issued his first command.

**Stand**

There's something there. A flicker.

And then it drowns.

He can feel it, the dying. The way she had winked out like a star. Dying stars cause black holes.

It's debilitating, the way the frame seems to take in the void energy. Water through a sieve, except there's nothing there to catch it.

The frame rises, jerky movements hindered by growths and tangled neuroptics causing feedback and blinding confusion and light dancing the wrong ways as receptors wink in and out of-

The frame stumbles, and he can feel her death over again. The last moments, blinding fear and agony, the barest warmth of hope and love. He knows the ship the way she knew it. Can see-not-see the addition of every candle Tayra had placed, can remember the way it always smelled of warm wax and the quiet murmuring of prayers. How she would lean against the Ash as he kneeled- husk, covered, buried, blind and hurting- and told her stories of those who hid within the Scoria and defied the school even as they were praised as its best. He can feel her pride, her love, for an Operator trained as an assassin as a child, taken from her home and family, her sibling thrown to the keepers as payment. She was an awful, shameful secret, same-faced, but the Ivara's memory is laced with joy upon seeing that face smile. Her fear, her worry, her hope, her love, as if the void is amplifying it, neural sensors relaying information without order or grace. He can feel the pain, and the void-light cannot repair her, only a dead echo of what she was once.

Ivara lurches forward, and he can feel the pain, he can feel her death, endlessly. It is unsteady, not smooth or even moderately in tune with his intent, vut the frame moves at his command.

This frame was truly empty. An endless abyss. One he filled with void energy. Over and over again. Every moment of her death that he feels, is a moment he invites more of the void into himself. He fills himself with that infinite emptiness. Perhaps if both are vacuous holes then they should cancel one another out, find stability. Or perhaps they compound and make an even stronger well that draws in everything to its finite end.

Talthen did not have the luxury to ponder this thought, he had to save his Operator. No. Wait. He had to save an Operator. She was hidden. She had made him proud as she had defended herself. No! That's not him. That's not.... the point. He has to get to the transference room. The sword. Use it to open the way. Free her. Then right the ship. Reset the candles the way Tayra had them. The way he enjoyed the ship being. No. This ship was awful. The infestation repulsed him. It made him hate his... home? Something wasn't right.

Jerking motions and unsteady steps drew a wilting frame to the latticework of sinew and boil that crossed the entrance to the room where she was waiting for him. where he suspected the Operator had hidden. The first swing was wild, the tip of the blade barely scraping the outline of the door itself. The frame lurches, slamming a shoulder jarringly onto the wall. The puppet holds the sword against the door, and with a movement as though its strings were cut, scraped it downward, cleaving a layer of the budding flesh free. It would be a few more scrapes and haphazard scratches, a struggle in mind and in coordination, until the door was finally clean enough to open.

The pod is closed. No.

The pod is overgrown.

It had been open, as if the Operator had tried to get out, to do something. Tayra is barely visible under the ick. She's unconscious, not even Dreaming. Her fiery hair sticks to her in sweat slicked streaks. The white somatic fibers behind the pod are grey, dull and rotten. Coils of infestation are wrapped around her, around her throat, half buried in her open mouth. Her breathing is shallow and ragged but present, if only barely.

The Ivara 'sees' her, knows her to be alive, and stumbles. Fire-hot joy arcs through her, dulled out by the sickened revulsion at seeing the infestation around her Operator. Fury is next. It's not a warm thing, not rage. It's ice, bitter and biting, pain whipped to a froth so intense as to peak, star splitting in its endlessness, He can feel it, this almost-dead thing, her arm outstretched not under his order, in a mimicry of his memory, of his sacrificed frame and the burning cold saving grace. Her energy cannot be refueled, she is shattered and broken. But her arm sparks. There is a bow, and she draws back the string, glowing like lava, aims at the rot, and  _ begs him to fire _ .

When Talthen runs missions, his mind is cool. Calm and cold, he calculates. He makes decisions. There is that logical part of him that is happy to see the Operator, her chest gently rising and falling, alive. The other part of him is a razor's edge of hatred. The nearly dead archer would get a flash of memory; Eyes opening to slick, oozing tendrils working to block out the light overhead, innumerable maggots crawling along skin and slinking through hair, the smell of rotten Grineer flesh, and the wail of a scared child. Void energy pulses. Frigid rage is met with seething rancor and honed to a singular point of rebuke. A single thought enters their minds as one:

**Fire.**

An Ivara sighs. An Artemis bow looses its final and most important volley. She knows peace, and offers it to him like a gently blooming flower as her pained mind in their shared body finally, truly, melts.

The infestation coiled over the Operator blooms into violet, violent agony.

It yanks Tayra's head aside as the living growths attempt to recede from the excruciating void tinged arrows embedded in it. The Tenno shudders, coughing blood and something chunky onto the fleshy webbing holding her down. She had been wearing some kind of dress, a rather plain Orokin styled exercise wear, and blood is obvious on her arms, shoulders, and neck as the infestation rips itself free of her.

Tayra screams. There's no visible void scarring on her, and the somatic links are a simple trio embedded on high cheekbones and the tip of a delicate, rounded nose. Her eyes go a vibrant, glowing purple as she buries bare hands in the gunk, ripping it apart in thick, gloopy chunks to attempt and further free herself. That's her frame.  _ Hers. _

The broken form collapses, and from the cracked shell, an Orokin boy is shunted. He lands on his side, curling up in pain. But as the pain subsides, he looks to where Tayra is fighting her way out of the net of personified horror. He is weak, the process of getting to his feet is arduous, and the path to the pod is meandering, littered with stuttered steps. He has regained a bit of his strength, enough to call out to her.

"You're alive. Wonderful. We need..." He falls into a fit of coughs as the spores begin to fill this room as well "...to get out of here. The Helminth- It's overrun everything." His hair is a mess, matted by infested slime, his mask is flickering in and out, and his weight is oddly distributed as he stands before her.

Her eyes focus on him immediately. She screams again, falling free of the living cage like an animal from captivity. "Ash- I have to-" She lands on her hands and knees, floor squishy under her.

She gags, eyes on her fallen frame. "Shiri?" Her expression shatters, and tears fill her eyes. She looks up at him, and her lip trembles. Tayra closes her eyes and takes a short breath. When she opens them again, they're no longer glowing with void-light. She stands, barefoot and bloody. Tayra pulls a dagger from... somewhere. Strapped to her thigh maybe? "Candles, meditation, the chrono was-" She rubs her head with her unarmed hand, which just serves to smear blood over her cheek. "I'm assuming something happened to yours. 's why you were in Shiri,'' Her voice cracks on the name, and she coughs again.

"Ash. Need him. Please say you didn't dock, and used an archwing or something?" She grabs his hand as she stalks past him without waiting dor a reply, dagger held upsidedown in her left hand, and murder in her expression. Tayra just tugs him along, eyes skittering over, well, everything except the crumpled heap of what was left of one of her frames.

He had not the energy to fight her, even if he wanted to. She tugged on his arm and he followed. His answers were short and to the point.

"Yes. Presumed destroyed. Detonation of Helminth. And yes. Odonata. Detached and set adrift nearby." He quickly has to change his steps to match hers. He doesn't want her to actually drag him after all. "If you are looking for another frame, there is an infested mass on the upper floor."

Cephalon Bhett receives a discrete set of chirps on a short-range encrypted line. The seven chirps that signal for an incomplete approach in preparation for a quick getaway.

"Ash, Ash, oh Void," She knew before she saw. She could feel him, could feel his signature as she always could. Shiri and her lovely, perfect, Ash. She cared for nothing else in this vessel, save the kavats she already knew to be gone, and she would not lose them both.

She's pleased the other operator doesn't try to stop her, and absently offers him her knife when they reach the top of the first ramp. Void arcs between her fingers, the lightfiredark is weak, her grip over the strange power is nothing like any of the other Tenno's. The only mark the void had left her with was the odd glow to her eyes that they all shared. It sparks into being like claws extending from her hand, and she buries it into the muck without an ounce of fear. "You do not get to leave me too!" Void bears into the mess, flows from her almost empty reservoir and into the husk cocooned in boils..

The mass rumbles, and the ship seems to finally start paying attention again. She falls forward as it rises, and the frame shudders as meat and chunks and slime roll off of it, with the help of her scraping away the ick in quick, efficient strokes. "I can't use transference, but he can actually connect to an archwing. As long as we're close enough and it's a short trip, the atmo bubble should last?" The frame, eyeless as they all are, is watching him. One bulky arm is curled protectively around her waist. "We just do a void scrub in space before actually getting on board.." Her expression goes distant and unfocused with grief.

Something in the helminth room wails. She shudders, and the Ash offers him an arm. There's no expression on his carapace, of course, but the echoes of Shiri's memory would let him understand worry and something almost akin to thankfulness in the angle of his head.

Talthen would nod knowingly and grasp the Ash's wrist without hesitation. He was more than ready to leave this forsaken ship behind.

"My ship is on its way. We should be able to make the hop without issue. I think I have enough in me for a field de-con."

Talthen presses a switch on his wrist, a happy sounding Cephalon acknowledges that the line is open. "Oh, Operator! I do hope everything has gone well. Your vessel is enroute. Still cloaked, as requested."

The bulky frame tugs both operators close, knowing exactly how precious his cargo is- and that they wasted important time dragging him free of the ick. Talthen can feel it, can feel how smoothly the frame operates even without Tayra's input. How fiercely the frame feels, just from being in proximity.

Cephalon Ifrit, or whatever's left of her, howls again in equal parts rage and agony. The ship shudders, a grotesque, living thing, and rather than risk getting closer to the helminth, or the hellish remains of that cursed room, the Ash draws a weapon from his lower back. Tayra clings to him as he steadies himself and lowers his balance. He aims at the mostly clear glass above them, ever thankful in this moment that the orbiters had so many viewports. Waiting for the Cephalon to give the signal, or to see the Archwing through the glass, the frame goes still. He keeps a hand on Talthen, and Tayra is wedged against his other side. She's crying, fingers curled into the ridges of Ash's carapace so intensely her knuckles have gone white where they aren't stained red with her own blood.

As soon as they do receive the signal, the Redeemer, true to its name, fires. ' _ Hold your breath and close your eyes _ ,' A voice, rich and with a rather Martian accent, says into his mind, connection sparked from the contact. They're practically sucked out of the glass into the cold emptiness of space. Tara is weaving what weak link to the Void she has, carding it over as much of them as she can. The sensation of infestation fizzing off makes her feel clean. She can't manage much, but she desperately wants to be clean and isn't unwilling to attempt helping the other operator as they float in chilling space towards the Archwing.

He screws his eyes as he hears the shot fire off. The sound of shattering glass is swallowed by the expanse of space. Then came the forceful pull, disorienting in its intensity. He cannot see where the others are. He can only feel the Ash where their bodies meet.

Talthen had said he would attempt to purge the infestation, and he would be damned if he made a liar of himself. He tensed pulling the void into his body, coalescing on his skin, pulling up and away into the familiar void spines he had learned to form before the Dreams. Where their bodies met, he would will the spines to encompass rather than hold firm in form. Slowly, a thin film of razor like scilia would coat all three of them, tearing and burning the infestation away.

Only after the strange little group is cleansed does the Ash attempt to propel them towards the archwing. The heavy metallic clunk of the mags locking in place is a comfort, as well as the sudden envelopment of atmo. Tayra takes a shuddering breath, and then they're arcing towards the ship, away from the writhing mass, away from the ship with now two holes blown in it.

She's silent until they reach it, and as the archwing disconnects, dropping them against the lift to the inside of the ship. Once they're inside, in non infested space, solid metal beneath their feet and she looks around in marvel. "I figure Sin sent you, thank you beyond words, you saved my life and Ash's life and I don't know if I can ever repay you," And the words trail into in an unintelligible mumbled mess as she detaches herself from the frame to absolutely squish Talthen in a hug.

The ship was a wreck. Quite literally in a previous sense. What once was a smoldering pile of wreckage on Earth's surface was now a serviceable vessel that cruised through the cosmos. There is a mix of Tenno and Corpus pieces that make up this amalgam. Cables and panels had been pulled from a wall and set aside where he had been working on integrating a new food dispensary. Fortuna made, judging by the open box of nutrient packs that sat next to it. The only odd Grineer switchboard thrown in, was where the modification workbench in other Orbiters would sit. A tank next to it was half filled with a bubbling red and black substance, Kuva. All throughout the Orbiter were sections taken apart and combined together, systems bypassed manually, and a few blank sections. It was a mess, but it was also home.

"Yeah. It was Operator Sin'drion who sent me. You don't ha..." He is caught off guard by her sudden contact, and the realization that he is not in a frame. His skin crawls, and he starts to stammer. "D..d..don't worry a..bout it."

She pulls away just as quickly, and her expression is cheery even for the tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

The Ash bows low, poise immaculate. The scorpion-like tail on the back of his helmet curls and twists with the motion. Tayra echoes the bow, though it's a bit sloppier. It's the frame, not Operator, who speaks, "Our deepest sympathies at the loss of your other flesh. I hope it was a shed shell, not a living dermis." He tilts his head. His words are level and calm, almost eerily monotone. "If there is anything within our power, this debt-fill is unknowable, and we will never be able to fully repay it. We ask that you still give the opportunities, should they arise."

Talthen gave a sad smile and nodded at Tayra's words.  _ What was this sudden sense of pride? _ He then turned to the bowing frame, responding with a bow as well. "I shall keep you in mind should a task come to bear that I cannot handle alone. And worry not. It was not alive, as I assume you are." His stance opens slightly as he continues to address them both. "I wish it was in better circumstances, but it is a pleasure to meet you both. I am Operator Talthen, Defense Specialist. Welcome aboard my Orbiter."

Tayra offers him a sunny smile. "Operator-" Her expression twists to something pained and bitter, "I-"

The frame rests a hand on her shoulder. "Yes. I am Ash, and this is my operator.  _ Tayra _ ." He tilts his head, eyeing her as much as someone without a face or eyes can eye someone.

She nods. "My apologies Talthen, my training took... a lot from me. I wish we had met under... better circumstances."

"No. Need to apologize. We should probably get cleaned up, eat something, and get some rest. I'll chart a course for the Relay and send a report. There is a bathing stall in the quarters down the ramps and to the right of the Transference room. It uh... runs hot. And you.." he looks to the Ash, "Do... Do you need anything? Food-wise?" There was a pause. "Look. I'm sorry. A living Warframe is still a new concept to me. I'm working on it."

Tayra shakes her head. "My food intake is minimal, the Void sustains." She dips her head in a nod, "And, I would prefer to stay with my-" Tayra goes pink, glancing furtively at the warframe present.

The Ash dips his head. "I require no sustenance," He drops his claws to settle on Tayra's hips. "All I need is knowledge of my m- operator's safety." He dips his head to nuzzle his head against her. "She is my everything. I worry not for-" His scorpion tail shifts as he shakes his head. "If you have questions, I would answer them. Here, or at a later date, anything you request. Nor would I hold such a... jarring realization against you in any way."

"A later date please. I still need to notify the others of your safety, and take stock of my armory. Anyways. The quarters are yours for the trip. There is also a mattress in there if you'd like to rest." Talthen was already stepping away to reach for a console, lighting it up with a touch. The message to Kayden was succinct.

Tayra and Ash are safe. Orbiter and Ivara are destroyed. En route to Relay.

The frame nods and scoops his Operator up, even as Tayra goes to say something else. He silences her by gently knocking his head against hers, and then sighs. "If it's all the same to you, we would prefer to stay here?"

Tayra nods. "My training was... odd. About personal spaces. And Ash prefers greatly to keep his optics on navigation." He nods sharply, scorpion tail bobbing. If there's no objection, he'd get comfy against a wall, Operator held like a child with her arms looped around his neck.

  
  
  


The response is almost immediate, but dings twice in quick succession.

Good. I'll order food for when you all get here. Got any preferences?

Wait. Tayra? Are you fucking kidding me.

  
  


Talthen frowns at their odd insistence of avoiding any form of creature comfort. Luckily he is facing away to where they couldn't see it. He turned back to the messages.

Yes. Is there something the matter?

Tayra just buries her face against the Ash's neck. She's snoring quietly within moments, the bulky frame carding his claws through her hair as he eyes the navi panel.

No, shit's fine. I just cannot fucking believe my supposedly dead missing sister happened to be a clan member. Fuck.

Also you didn't answer the food question. Noodles and dumplings it is.

  
  


The face Talthen made could only be described as a physical loading screen. He glanced at the two cuddling by the navigation console, and sighed. He tapped at the screen a few more times. The interior lights dimmed, and Cephalon Bhett began to dance. A shimmer here. A mote of light there. It wasn't perfect, but if viewed in the right way, one might even think there were candles flickering inside the ship.

"Alright. The course is set. I'm going to rest." His words were meant for the Ash, yet were spoken to nobody in particular. He grabbed a nutrient pack and snuck further into the ship, intent on a scalding shower and a chance at sleep he knew would not come.

The frame gives him a small wave of acknowledgement, but says nothing. His shoulders seem to relax when the lights dim though. The two would remain there, and the random shifting of a snoozing operator would be the only real motion within the lander until he returned.

It wouldn't be until much later that Talthen returned to what would be the command center of his Orbiter. In the eight hours he had tried his best to fix himself up and get rest. He was clean at least, or as clean and put together as one could be after what they had gone through. His hair would be pulled back and tied up, giving a full view of nothing. His face was still hidden behind the cephalon emulating cogna mask and the judicial oculus that he was wearing before.

He passed by the two resting forms with a nod on his way to the navigation console. There he would kneel and scroll through the chart to check on their progress.

The Ash seems to 'wake up' when he returns. Sort of. The frame greets him with a small nod, but otherwise seems rather still and silent. Tayra is still asleep in his arms, head buried against the vents on the frames neck. She seems to be sleeping rather deeply, if the continued quiet snoring is any indication. The fiery curls that practically cover her half obscure the frame's head as well.

Rather than attempt to speak, the frame instead opts to send a message.

Do you have an Eta available? As you can see, I'm not really able to move right now or I'd have checked.

Talthen responded in kind. The quiet conversation a relief. He didn't particularly feel to sociable at the moment.

One or two standard hours. We rerouted around a debris swarm.

The frame's lights flicker, and he gently bonps his forehead against Tayra's. Whatever conversation they have is silent, if not for the quick press of her lips to the side of his head. There's a muffled grumble from the operator, and the frame huffs.

She's likely going to sleep for another day at this rate. The Void barely kept her alive during... that. I cannot ever thank you enough. Anything you ever have need of, I will assist. I know I have said that already, but she is the most precious to me.

There's a short blip of pause, and then a second message. This time from Sin'drion. Or Nekros. Maybe both of them? It's unclear.

Kayden is keeping me updated on things. Please keep me aware of any expenses accrued. All of it, Talthen. No self sacrificing nonsense where you do not give me all the information. Please do not make me chat with your Cephalon. The rest of this ragtag group already does that enough. I will make sure at least the material sides of this debt are repaid quickly.

Also, usually we all sit around the rental and snarf down as much food as we can manage after a successful important mission. Do not let Kayden weasel away the dumplings. They're rather tasty, and I bet you haven't tried them yet. You absolutely should.

Talthen smirked, feeling his stomach rumble at the prospect of food that did not come from a vacuum sealed package. He enjoyed the nutrient packs, of course, but one can only eat freeze dried condroc and maprico chutney before it loses its charm. He returns a message to Sin'drion and/or Dakkai.

ETA 2 hrs. I will log my losses and expenses in that time.

  
  


See you when we see you. Stuck here at least till it no longer squelches when my plates hit the floor.

Tayra mumbles something again, but it's indistinct. Another moment, and then she snores again. Ash keeps an 'eye' on Talthen, curiously watching the other Operator.

Talthen did not move from his spot by the terminal. He typed away, forming a list of losses. There was a huff of a laugh as he noted he didn't have to mark down any excess expenditures for food.

Frame: Rhino (modified)

Weapon: Arca Plasmor

Weapon: Lex

Weapon: Heat Sword (modified)

He leaned away from the screen and sighed. His eyes glanced to the two sitting nearby. Should I really be calculating my losses, when they have lost so much more? He looked back to his list and added another item.

Misc. : Sanity

With another huffing sigh of a laugh, the item was removed. Without haptic key tones, the following silence was deafening to him.

"What was she like? The Ivara."

I'll intercept and quantify the notes when you pass them along. The Operator's a bit tangled up in the. Hm. Third? Attempt at a cleanse of a derelict.

It's signed C.Shell.

Ash tilts his head, thoughtful. "Shiri? Quiet. She is... protective, headstrong. She enjoys- enjoyed pictures, and they'd go fishing or hunting on the plains and take photos." They're all gone now, lost with the ship.

"She hated killing, even though it's what we were made for." The frame rests his 'chin' atop Tayra's snoozing head. His emissive lights shift between purple and grayish as he speaks. "Phenomenal at stealth, even when she wasn't invisible, but her aim was always worse than garbage."

"Except when it counts."

With a couple of taps, the list was compiled and sent to Sin'drion, surely through the filtration of Cephalon Shell. "I don't know what it's like to go through transference with a frame that has a will. I have only ever used the Rhino I had lost. I... Shiri? It felt different with her. It felt like... pushback in my mind. A pressure that was never there before. As if I had memories that are not mine injected into my brain."

The frame nods, slow and thoughtful.

"You have no other frame?" He tilts his head, and the scorpion tail thuds quietly where it hits the ship interior. "Normally thoughts and memories are only shared at will. Whoever's... self is stronger can sort of force it, if they really try. Or perhaps that's Tay simply humoring me." He shrugs one plated shoulder. "Likely the... the damage to her-"

He sighs, a soft staticy sound, before continuing. "It may have been her urgency, it may have been the damage done to her." There's a long moment of silence, and then a mumble from the Operator in his arms. The frame chuckles, but all dregs of humor in his tone are gone with his next question. The weight of the words implies something deeper, as if he's asking something else on top, even if he only speaks the one sentence, "Would you like to try again?"

Talthen stared at the frame's faceplate. Curiosity made him squint. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the now dark terminal as he spoke. "I don't know. Perhaps in the future, when I have had time to reflect on what it means to move the body of another. This instance was born from desperation, the process rushed, sloppy, and violent. I would rather attempt it in a controlled environment."

His faceplate cannot move, his expression cannot shift, but his words hold a tone not unlike someone smirking. "If it pleases you. Though I don't know of a more controlled environment than your own ship." He shrugs an armored shoulder.

Tayra lifts her head up and, considering her back is to him, unknown to Talthen, sticks her tongue out at the frame. "Quit being a bully, he said no, you pushy ass." She then gently whaps her hand against the frame's face before going back to attempting napping.

"I would hardly call this a controlled environment. It barely functions beyond transportation." As if to emphasize his words, a loud pop is followed by a hiss somewhere deeper in the ship. The tired Tenno just grumbles and orders his Cephalon to cut off whatever was feeding the busted line. Bhett's excitement for such a mundane task was annoyingly clear.

"Thank you, Operator Tayra, for translating my words. And as for words being relayed, it seems Operator Kayden was unaware of your identity or that you, his sister, were alive."

The Ash chuckles again. "I'm curious what you would consider a controlled environment then, Talthen?" He seems rather amused with the Cephalon though.

Tayra lifts her head again. She looks over her shoulder at the other Tenno, face puckered like she ate something gross. "I don't have siblings?" The frame shakes his head and drops her onto the floor. She yawns and leans her back against the frame, who dips forward enough to rest his chin atop her head again.

"Well that'll certainly be a fun conversation for you two." He looked at the Ash again. "I'd call a controlled environment one that does not, or would not, break so easily or in a way that endangers anyone, should a problem arise. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to attempt to regain control of this environment."

Talthen stood up from the wall, giving them both a short bow before grabbing a tool case from a corner and heading to check on what made a racket earlier.

The frame tilts his head and then nods. "I suppose that's a fair assessment. I'm just curious what kind of place would survive if a warframe truly went awry..."

Tayra still looks confused, but more contemplative than anything. "Of course," She says absently. "Let me know if you need an extra set of hands?" She adds on as he grabs the box.

They would never hear him ask for help. Instead they would hear a plethora of curses and the clatter of tools. Cephalon Bhett would laugh and giggle at Talthen's torment, a rapid beat of joy throughout the ship. The curses only grew in frequency.

It wouldn't be until later, when the Relay was within view from the forward viewport, that the curses died down and the sound of a shower flared. Talthen would rejoin them, a grumbling, damp mess.

Tayra winces at a particularly loud curse, but doesn't want to intrude on what might be his method of acquiring solitude while there are interlopers on his ship. Instead, Tayra simply relaxes back against the frame. She tilts her head back to stare up into his optics.

The two share the mostly quiet time in companionable silence, or communicating through their link. Likely the latter, considering Tayra's expression shifts through a variety of emotions as the time passes. She rises up onto her toes to press another kiss to the frame's cheek, who returns to running his claws through her hair after a few more moments of affection.

She's back to lounging against the Ash when Talthen returns, eyes on the relay as they get closer.

There's a message waiting for him upon his return.

The gestation time of a frame means I can't get you one immediately! But equivalent weapons, minus modifications, can be delivered to the clubhouse if you're still there in a day or so!

As for the frame, we've got quite a few schematics laying around if you want something different, or can just supply you the parts to build your own. Your choice!

\- C.Shell

I gratefully accept the offer of weapons. I will be available for the foreseeable future, as I cannot take any missions without a Warframe. Any further decisions will be made after I have arrived at the Relay.

-Operator Talthen

The docking procedure was standard fare, albeit a bit rocky due to the state of Talthen's ship. Once complete, Cephalon Bhett would chitter excitedly, "Oh! We're here. You kids have fun now. Be safe. Don't talk to strangers. Take a coat. Stay warm."

I'd give you a thumbs up if I had hands! Keep me in the loop though.

-C.Shell

Tayra, barefoot and clad in a skirt and the equivalent of a crop top, glances up at the ship. Was that directed at her? Ash scoops her up and practically throws her on his back. "I don't want you stepping in anything gross," He snaps at her immediate protest. "The Relays are never clean..." She just rolls her eyes and sets her chin on his shoulder.

Otherwise though, the two would follow Talthen. And Tayra would give anyone who so much as glanced at them funny the stare of absolute hatred and vitriol only manageable by an Orokin child turned warrior, with glowing eyes and a fury to match. "I hate being here physically," She mumbles, low enough to not be overheard by passerby but loud enough that it's clear the complaint is an attempt as commiseration with the other Operator.

Talthen walks just ahead of the Ash and the precious cargo the frame carries, on his own two feet. He didn't pay attention to the looks. He was focused on getting to the rented space as quickly as possible. He hated to admit it, but he agreed with Tayra. His words were not lowered out of courtesy. "I don't like it either, but there is nothing w.... I can do about it."

His path was direct, almost through people at times. It wasn't long before they found themselves at the door, upon which Talthen knocked. Three terse raps alerting any inside they had visitors.

The door whisks open as soon as he's done knocking. The clubhouse is much the same, though it smells like takeout. Two massive paper bags are atop the table, and another Operator is sprawled out on the couch. He's clad in all monochrome greys, with a rather oversized scarf that coils around his neck and shoulders almost like a blanket. A mask of gold and glass covers the upper half of his face. One leg is propped up on an armrest, and also wrapped in a cast, and there's a few datapads and displays scattered across both table and couch.

His eyes are closed and he's got a dumpling in one hand, and another on the Garuda standing beside the couch. The frame is using her nails to tap out something on a pad in her hands. Her massive claws are flipped back, sheathed, and she and Kayden both look over towards the door when it opens. He sits up, taking his hand off the frame, which causes it to drop the pad and droop into the usual 'inactive' stance non sentient frames take when disconnected. He waves, and then points at the two unopened bags of food.

Tayra gets set down as soon as they're inside, and she makes a beeline for the bags. She grabs the one not labelled 'Tally', as Ash gets comfortable on the floor. The girl drops into the frame's lap with a delighted noise, already fishing out various containers as he wraps his arms around her waist and nuzzles his faceplate between her shoulder and neck.

"Operator Kayden, I presume? It is good to meet you. I am Operator Talthen, defense specialist." The introduction is followed by a short, respectful bow. He approaches, seeing the bag with his nickname emblazoned on it, and smiles while picking it up. He opens it and rummages around inside. "Operator Sin'Drion told me to not let you steal all the dumplings, as they are rather delicious."

Talthen would sit down on the other end of the couch. He removed one container and opened it. He would empty one container before retrieving and opening the next.

The reply is a snort, followed by Kayden flipping his mask atop his head. He makes eye contact, and then stuffs the dumping into his mouth. With now empty hands he simply signs, ' _ Got everyone their own serving. She already yelled at me about it. _ '

Tayra is busy shovelling some kind of stir fried... something into her face. The frame she's in the lap of handles speaking for her. "Ship's gone. Shi- Ivara's gone. Cephalon Ifrit is... unsalvageable."

Kayden nods slowly, expression unchanged except for chewing the dumpling stuffed in his face. 'Zelu is already keeping track in the decommission list from the Lotus. Soon as something pops up we'll get you a new ship at least.'

Talthen's eyes are glued to Kayden's hands as they move through the air. It was hard enough to understand the signs that he didn't fully have a grasp on, but he would not make it any harder on himself by missing a single gesture. His meal came to a near standstill as his focus ventured elsewhere.

"I would be wary of some of the ones on the list. My ship came from the decomm list. And, well, these two have seen what it's like." He indicates Ash and Tayra with a tilt of his head. His voice was neutral, simply attempting to give input for the sake of conversation.

The scars that marr the left side of his face pinch as he tilts his head and nods. ' _ Flyable is better than _ -' His hands stall out their motion as Tayra snorts.

Ash covers her mouth with his hand, cutting off whatever she was about to say. "There's ones on that list that can be refurb- Ow you fucking-" Tay had, like a bratty child, been licking his hand to get him to move it. And then when it obviously hadn't worked, had instead bit his hand.

She chimes in with, "I could go get a Corpus sugar daddy?" Kayden's response is to just sigh loudly.

The Ash covers her mouth again, "No. I'm not sharing with some filthy, crusty old credit counter. Shut u-"

Kayden claps his hands twice, suddenly. And then attempts signing again, once the frame pauses. ' _ The public decomm list and the private one are separate entities. Some of the private ones are in better condition, it's just that... Different events but similar circumstances have caused the Lotus to leave them behind. Have you seen Zelu's ship? Hers is a decomm. The Lotus has declared her dead. She asked too many questions. _ ' Another shrug.

Eyes lock onto the pair interlocked in their game of one silencing the other, whipping shoulder length hair behind. Talthen's eyebrows go through a rolling sea of emotions, his lips parting as the barest hint of incredulous inquiry begins it's vocalization. "Excus-"

His head whipped back in the other direction as the claps ring out. Watching the signs intently, he gathers the basics. "Wait. What do you mean Zelu is dead?"

Frame and operator are giggling, and Tayra reaches into her bag to pull out her tray of dumplings. Talthen's almost-question just gets an immediate response of waggled eyebrows. Ash plucks the dumplings away and holds them out of her reach until she apologizes to him for the bite.

Kayden rubs at his face, and then shakes his head. He grabs another dumpling from the tray in his lap that had been under his datapad. After stuffing it in his mouth, he clarifies, making sure each word is deliberate and a bit slower to make it easier to understand. ' _ According to the Lotus she is dead. No signal or request for help she puts out would be answered by anyone on the Lotus' network, because the Lotus' would not pass it on. It's a long story, not mine to tell. _ ' He shrugs. ' _ But rather than die out in the void alone, she was smart and hitched some signal and found Sin'drion on a mission. So... there might be other ships like that that we can get our hands on if we're careful and can get the data. Zelu was an odd case, and... most of the other Tenno on that list are like her, or are already actually dead. It'll take time and digging. Or she gets something half junk and has to do repairs. _ ' Another shrug.

Tayra looks ready to protest at the idea of getting a less than ideal ship, but Ash drops his chin atop her head and she gets distracted by whatever he says to her through the link.

Talthen takes a moment to place more food in his mouth, chewing over this new information in tandem. With a swallow, he clears his throat.

"Wish I had known that when I was starting out. My ship was wrecked on Earth when I found it. Took me ages to replace all of those Grineer parts I had to use."

He shoots a glance at Tayra and Ash. No. She's just fucking with me. Right?

Another shrug. Kayden waves a hand in a ' _ shit happens _ ' kind of gesture. ' _ I can have Zelu keep an ear out for you? Obviously she, _ ' And he gestures in Tayra's direction, ' _ Has prio, since she completely lacks one. But we can easily catch leads and pass along the info for you too? _ '

Tayra rolls her eyes. "Okayyy." She grabs her current container of food, and hands Ash the paper bag with the rest of her meal. "Thank you doesn't really cut it, but. I am still exhausted, so I'm gonna.." She yawns, and makes a gesture at one of the doors. "Get some more sleep and stuff," And with that, Operator and frame duck out of the debrief to take a nap.  _ Probably _ .

Talthen's only response to Tayra's and Ash's departure was a nod in lieu of a bow. He followed up with waving off Kayden's offer. "Oh no. Don't worry about me. I just got everything exactly the way I want it in that moving mess." Finally he reaches the container of dumplings, popping one in his mouth. They were right. These morsels were the best part of the meal.

He looked over his shoulder towards the room that the two had disappeared into, and then back towards Kayden. "So... what happened that has you on lockdown in here?"

Kayden's eyes follow the other two until the door shuts, and then he rolls his eyes.

' _ Fair. Let me know if you change your mind. _ ' He adjusts where the mask sits, now atop his head, and then shoves another dumpling into his mouth. Being able to eat and 'talk' was always a blessing.  _ 'I got a couple surgeries after I woke up. Using the void would eradicate those. Got my knee shattered on a mission a few nights ago. So I'm stuck here doing recon instead. _ ' He makes a face, clearly displeased with the fact. 

"Well. Recovery is important after all. Speaking of. Is there a place on this relay I can get a shower over 30°C? My ship can't get its water hot enough to scour the feel of the infestation off me." A shiver ascends Talthen's spine. The next dumpling did not taste as good as the first.

He nods, and then points at the other room. When Talthen says infestation, he makes another face, but it mostly just looks conflicted.  _ 'You're welcome to stay here, that's one of the points. Careful though, showers here get beyond hot if you turn the knob too far. _ '

He tilts his head, and adds on, ' _ And before you ask, I'm not staying here here- just- _ ' Kayden makes a face, confused at where he was trying to go with that sentence.  _ 'I'm staying at the relay, and I'm here until they get off duty. _ ' He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of somewhere else on the relay.

He responds in kind with an understanding nod. "Thank you. It seems like I'll be here for a few days while a new frame is being made. I lost my only one in the rescue. So if there are any places on this relay you think I should visit, I would appreciate directions." Talthen poked at his food, the urge to eat suddenly gone as he realized how much he was adding to their burdens.

"After I take a shower. I'll be heading back to my ship. Better to leave a room open for one of the others."

  
  
  


Kayden frowns, the expression sharp. ' _ If you want to stay on your ship, I won't stop you. But nobody else is going to be using that room. Zelu never stays the cycle, just invades the fridge, and Sin is going to be clearing a ship for. _ ' He pauses, and does some math on his leather covered fingers. ' _ At least a week. I'm staying with my. _ ' He visually stumbles before picking the next word. ' _ Boyfriends? Complicated. Oh, shit right. I'm supposed to ask you what frame you want? Another Rhino, or something else? We've got a variety of schematics between us. Shell already passed along the weapon list, and we're getting those together. _ '

"Plural? That does sound complicated." The corners of Talthen's mouth tugged upwards in a coy smile. One that was immediately removed, replaced by his usual mask of neutrality. "My needs are less complex. I'd be perfectly fine with another Rhino. However, I am interested in looking through the schematics. I can always use something sturdier, or something that meshes better with the types of mission I prefer to run."

He bowed his head as he spoke of looking through the schematics, adding to his humility in asking a favor.

He nods, expression pained. ' _ Yeah. It's not officially anything, which makes it even more complicated. I don't know. They don't mind weird Void shit, and that's all I can ask. _ ’ His face shifts to something more content, almost happy.

Kayden offers Talthen the datapad. ' _ Here's our current list. We've got a few primed parts on there as well, but the reconstruction process is pretty lengthy, and you'd be out for a bit longer. And you can snag more than one, too. We've all got multiple frames... _ ' It's an offer and a suggestion, even if his hands have a hard time conveying tone.

This list is short, but not as short as it would be if it was a single Tenno's.

Banshee, Baruuk, Ember, Ember Primed parts, Garuda, Khora Primed parts, Mesa, Nekros, Nezha, Nova, Oberon, Oberon Primed Parts, Rhino, Valkyr, and Wukong.

Talthen hummed as he looked over the list. There was his tried and true frame, third from the bottom. He flipped through the profiles of each frame, going back and forth through the data sheets, comparing every aspect he could. The process took a considerable amount of time. He sat in silence, absentmindedly picking at his food until it was all gone.

Kayden spends the time of Talthen's silence rather relaxed. His head is lolled back against the armrest, and he's got one arm stuck out to touch the Garuda beside him. The frame taps diligently at the smattering of datapads and floating notescreens in front of her. His eyes are closed, but the acid green void light is visible through his lids, making the deep bags underneath even more visible.

Silently, Talthen would hand back the datapad. On it were two frames pulled up: Rhino and Wukong. "I'm comfortable with Rhino's functions, but this frame here, the Wukong, its versatility makes it worth consideration. Would I be able to take a copy of the schematics for both of these?"

The frame settles onto her knees, in a passive, idle state, as he sits back up to take the pad back. ' _ Sure, you can make copies of any but the Primed ones, since those don't copy, obviously. Not quite ready to reconstruct one of those yet? _ ' It's almost teasing, if sign could be. ' _ Zelu is going to be dropping off your weapon replacements tomorrow, along with some materials to cover what's needed to make your frame. I'll let her know, _ ' He pauses, fingers skating over the glass.

A few moments pass, and there's a quick *ding* ' _ Yeah, okay, she's gonna cover both, actually. Something about owing you a helmet? _ '

Talthen nodded at Kayden's signed words. "That is very kind of her. She doesn't have to, but I appreciate it."

He eyed the Garuda with a passive curiosity. "As for your question about the Primes... no. I am not ready to construct one of my own." The statement was neutral, but the underlying tone of apprehension was clear. It'd be a while still before he was accustomed to the concept.

Kayden shrugs. ' _ We do a lot of things we don't have to, we're that kind of people. _ ' He tilts his head and then nods. ' _ You don't ever have to, if you don't want to. On one hand, it's basically what we're best at, but on the other... Sharing your mind with someone isn't easy. _ '

Talthen nodded, to convey he understood, only letting the silence linger. He picked at the containers the food had come in, not sure of what to say next. Or if he should say anything at all.

He just shrugs, leaning back again to connect with his frame. She goes back to tapping out things on the strewn pads. Time passes in something approximating silence, which clearly the mute operator seems content enough with, until there's a sudden sharp knock on the door. ' _ That's mine, I think. _ ' The Tenno gets up, leaving his frame in idle, and what they had been working on, to hop-hobble on his unsplinted leg towards the door.

Talthen would stand as Kayden pulled himself up. Watching the other Tenno hobble along almost made him ask if assistance was required, but he bit his tongue.

On the other side are two operatives in full Veil regalia, minus headwear. They're both taller than the Tenno by at least a head and a half, though that's likely not uncommon. They glance over at Talthen both offering him a small nod in acknowledgement. One's hair is intricately braided, a long tail that hangs down his back, the other has short, unruly curls. The first collects his tiny date in a hug, as the second gives Talthen a second glance and asks, "He's new. Friend of yours?"

At the inquiry, his tongue got the better of him and he spoke up. "Tenno Operator Talthen, Defense Specialist." He bows. His next words are directed at the two, but were meant for Kayden. "We have just officially met actually. I'll be staying here while my equipment undergoes repairs. This group is kindly allowing me such a favor."

Kayden's signed response to the two is hidden, and the one with the braid nods. "Culltelli, this is Korum. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but we haven't had _ that _ honor-" Kayden's response to that is visible, and he goes pink, shoving Culltelli backwards out the door.

Korum is laughing, and waves this time. "Well, nice to meet you Talthen. Careful with the showers, the hot water's no joke." The other Tenno hops back into view to wave at Talthen, offering him an almost-smile and a ' _ Sorry about him, Red Veil get really fanatical about Void Touched, you know? _ ' And then grabs Korum's hand and tugs.

Korum wiggles his fingers as he lets himself be dragged away from the door. Before the door slides shut again, he says, presumably at the Tenno dragging him away, "Oh come on, it's just teasing. Don't worry, you'll have our undivided att-" Thankfully, the closed door doesn't allow any of the rest of that through.

There was a sigh after the door closed.  _ Why does everyone here have so much energy? _ Talthen just shook his head and turned towards the empty room. It wouldn't be long until roiling steam could be seen pouring out from under the door he disappeared behind.

  
  
  
  



End file.
